The Many Lives of Sakura Haruno
by Lost-In-The-Muse
Summary: In which Sakura can summon her dead-self from any Alternate Universe that she pleases. One-Shot.


Sakura couldn't remember when her other selves started appearing in the same way she couldn't remember the moment that she learned that she lived in a Shinobi Village called Konoha. To her, it seemed as if her other selves were always there just as it seemed to her that she'd always known the name of her village.

But it wasn't until Sakura had started attending the Shinobi Academy did she realise that no one else seemed to have their own other selves floating around them, much less see the other, more grown-up Sakura's that followed her like an entourage of elite Shinobi following their client on a bodyguard mission.

Her classmates, especially the girls, didn't seem to share her wonder and excitement about having these other Sakura's' floating about.

They insisted that Sakura was just making things up to attract attention. That she was a know-it-all teacher's pet in class, and a serial liar outside of it.

Sa told her to throw in a good right hook and pummel her bullies to the ground the good old fashion way. There was no need to bother with any caution to their well being, because it would be a great opportunity to showcase the medical ninjutsu Sa had been teaching her. It's what the pink-and-red-clad, twenty something year old medic had been doing her whole life. It was how she fought, how she lived, how she tackled life all the way until the end when she went out in a brutal shinobi battle.

Ku told her not to confront them directly, instead manipulate them like game pieces on a Shogi board. Then when they've stumbled to far into her web of genjutsu to safely escape, spring a trap on them. Her ghostly fingers twitched wildly as the nearly thirty-five year old kunoichi bent down to be eye level with Sakura. Ku explained how each spazzing hand gesture was a short cut for one hand sign and another. The unreadability of her chakra manipulation was what kept her alive long enough to go out and explore the world before her untimely demise at the hands of a deadly disease she had contracted in one of the small villages she had visited.

Ra told her to find an adult. Ra used to have a bunch of problems with bullies too when she was in Middle School and all the way through what little amount of High School she attended before a strange, mobile compartment she called a 'car' had plowed through the safety railings of a bridge and plunged into the raging river below with Ra still inside. But the fifteen year old girl wearing a hoodie that was two sizes two big maintained that in her experience, bullies didn't try anything if there was a teacher around. Although the teachers themselves weren't all that helpful in actually stopping the bullying.

Saku told her to take a deep breath and ignore them. She liked telling the story of one of the more intense priests she had grown up knowing. A favorite saying of his was: "When life gets tough you get tougher. You either ride it out or die trying." The bullies were just a test of her resilience and will power and if she could overcome them, she could overcome anything. It was a piece of advice Saku had taken to heart as she dedicated her life to practicing her religion, maintaining shrines, and preserving her people's history. And even though she was quite dead now, having been burned to death when the shrine she was tending to caught fire, the priestess was thoroughly convinced that pacifism and quiet inner strength was what everyone, including Sakura, needed to exist peacefully.

Kura told her that sometimes, she was going to meet people that just straight up won't like her no matter what she does. There's no point in trying to bend over backwards to please everyone. Instead of wasting all of that energy on people who will never give you the time of day. It was better to spend it on the people she loved, and the people who loved her back. Kura was always the quiet, warm, grandmother-figure of the group with her kind smile and thin grey hair; her eyes however, were always filled with despair as she quietly confessed that the one thing she regretted most in life was taking for granted the love her friends and family had to offer her before they were all taken away from her along with her hometown of Hiroshima. The guilt had followed Kura until she died of old age and the last thing she wanted was for little Sakura to feel that pain.

The little five year old in question considered her options carefully, as she sat up in a puddle of mud, staring up into the eyes of her tormentors.

Slowly, Sakura stood up without breaking eye contact with the ringleader of the bullies.

"Thank you for your brilliant portrayal of a self-centered asshole in the movie of my life." Sakura said as easily as she breathed.

Now, here's the part where she liked to think that she simply spun around on her heels and waltzed away from her bullies with the elegance and grace of a powerful kunoichi. That her bullies were too stunned to even make a move against her retreating form.

But Sakura knew that wasn't going to happen in the split second that it took to form that fanciful future.

Instead she grabbed a handful of mud, threw it at her classmate's faces to distract them and took that opportunity to sprinted away from the scene as fast as a little kid could.

Her other selves followed, trailing behind her like ghosts of lives unlived.

**Author's Note:**

**This is just a little practice piece to get me back into the habit of writing. I had about half of it done already so I finished it and polished it up. This idea has been in my head for a while and as much as I want to continue it, I don't think I'll have time to do it justice as I'm working on five different fics simultaneously (most of which haven't even been uploaded yet).**

**So while this fic is considered complete, if anyone wants to adopt the idea or continue it themselves, you are free to do so so long as you message me and let me know. **

**Thanks for stopping by! **

**~Lost-In-The-Muse**


End file.
